<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Down to the Second by glow593</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047651">Down to the Second</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/glow593/pseuds/glow593'>glow593</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cursed (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - No Red Paladins, F/M, Lancelot may be OOC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:36:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/glow593/pseuds/glow593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nimue has been promised to Lancelot since her birth, to unite their two clans despite the bad blood between them. They have never met and the day of their Joining is almost upon them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nimue/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>welcome! i got hooked on cursed, and by extension nimulot, so i couldn't resist writing them. tbf i haven't even finished the show yet, i'm still at ep 8, but i was just so excited by them that i had to post this now.<br/>it's a bit of a short prologue, but the chapters themselves are going to be longer.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lenore is exhausted, leaning back on her pillows, breathing hard. Giving birth was not easy. It had taken many hours, but the Hidden has blessed her with a daughter. Merlin’s daughter, but that’s beside the point. Jonah is by her side, and that is</span>
  <em>
    <span> fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He will be a fine father for her child. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She hopes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing worries aside, she looks down at her child. She has high hopes for her, especially now that it is confirmed the child is a girl. This will cement their alliance with the Ash folk, as the leader of them has a young son, and has proposed that in the case of Lenore’s child being a girl, they should be married.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Sky folk are currently on good terms with the Ash folk, but uniting the two leaders’ families with marriage would be beneficial for everyone. Especially with the current unrest towards the Fey and the bad blood between the two clans, they would all stand stronger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lenore looks up from her girl, Nimue will be her name, she decides and tells the room so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Send a message to the Ash folk’s leader, tell him that I have given birth to a girl. We accept his proposal,” her voice rings clear despite the exhaustion and the feeling of sleep trying to pull her under.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A young woman rushes to complete her request, everyone excited with the prospect. The long history of bad blood finally looking to be over between the two clans, something that has everyone in a good mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing that her job is done, Lenore lets Nimue be passed to the midwife and then lets the sweet relief of sleep pull her under. A smile on her lips.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nimue and Lancelot finally meet, though neither is aware of it at the time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>got this done much faster than i had thought i would! still not finished with the show (though i couldn't help but look up spoilers).<br/>hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nimue is half running, half walking through the forest. Lifting up her skirt so it doesn’t get caught on stray branches. She needs to get away from her overbearing mother and all the expectations that are placed on her back. It has not been long since her 18th birthday and the Ash folk are on their way to the Sky folk’s village, so that she may finally meet her betrothed and be Joined. Her betrothed. Ugh. She doesn’t want to get married at all, especially not to someone she has never met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she was younger she dreamed about him, asked questions about him. She was curious about the one person who according to her mother would accept her just as she is. This gradually stopped when she realized that he would most likely just call her a witch - like anyone else. She grew to strongly dislike this person of her imagination, which she knows is unfair to him, Lancelot, the man she has never met, only heard of. Well, now the time is almost upon her to meet him and Nimue is escaping her problems by escaping into the forest. Running away is shameful, but she can’t stop. She will return, she is too loyal after all, but for now, she just needs the breathing room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she moves between low hanging branches and over roots jutting out of the ground, she contemplates her life. She remembers the time she was small, attacked by a Dark God, and survived. The source of her misery. In her darkest moments, she sometimes wishes she hadn’t survived, or maybe that she hadn’t listened to the call and followed it into the forest, so she may not have to endure this ridicule and hatred from her people. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost funny, the way her people hate her, but she is betrothed to a once enemy for the sake of an alliance. Sometimes she wonders if it will even mean anything to her people since she is the one married away. Of course, the alliance is in everyone’s best interest so she doubts anyone will dishonor it even if she is the one given away. Maybe they’ll even appreciate it. Since she will be leaving the village after the Joining. They will finally be rid of the witch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Getting too caught up in her dark thoughts and not paying attention to where she is going she trips over a jutting root, “Shit!” she yells out loud, tripping and falling down into a clearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone chuckles in a low voice at her misfortune, and Nimue braces herself for the ridicule that is about to follow. The people from her village will never let her live something like that down and they are without a doubt the only people this far out in the forest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would have expected better language and more grace from a lady,” the someone says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her brow furrows and she looks up, no calls of “witch” or “demon”? That doesn’t seem quite right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In front of her is a man. He is wearing a completely dark grey almost black ensemble. Dark trousers, dark tunic and a dark cape overtop. Hood raised. Weapons adorning his side. All in all, it creates a menacing appearance. Not someone from her village then. For a moment she fears for life, but he keeps chuckling and her fear disappears to be replaced by rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can just about see his face under the hood, young, about her age, maybe a few years older. Handsome. Stubble on his chin and dark tears under his eyes running down his cheeks. One of the Ash folk then. When she had asked about what her betrothed looked like, her mother had told her that she didn’t know what he specifically looked like, but that she would be able to recognize one of the Ash folk by the dark tears on their cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He must be a part of the traveling party,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thinks. In response to his quip about her grace, she simply glares. No need to grace that with a response. His chuckling turns into full-blown laughter at her expression and she glares harder. She considers stringing him up by his ankles. See how much he would laugh then. Live up to her reputation as a demon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He holds his hands up in surrender and the laughter subsides. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slowly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Too slowly for her liking and the idea of using her powers lingers. She doesn’t however. No matter if the temptation is there, she has many years of experience in resisting the need to string up anyone that pisses her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Milady, I meant no offense,” his voice is rough and pleasant. Gravely one could say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had clearly meant offense and she decides to tell him so: “Clearly, no offense was meant. You only commented out of concern for me, I’m sure” the sarcasm is heavy in her voice, and he smiles at her response, amused by her anger. This only serves to make her angrier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” he says, laughter still in his voice, “I could not let a lady get hurt in my presence, even due to her own clumsiness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She draws in a deep breath to try and calm her anger. Blowing up at this </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot </span>
  </em>
  <span>will do no good. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least I’m not betrothed to him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks. The thought of her betrothed and their imminent meeting chills her, and the anger disappears. Mostly. With another deep breath, she turns on her heel to leave, but can’t resist having the last word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. Then this lady will leave your presence,” cursing herself for the bad parting shot she hurries her way back to her village paying extra attention to the ground. His laughter still ringing in her ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the young woman hurries and leaves his sight, Lancelot can’t keep his laughter in. He has not felt this free in a long time. Something about this strange woman has brought down all his carefully kept facades. It is not her beauty, although great with her long brown hair and eyes deep as a lake, but something about her spirit that speaks to him. Unfortunately, he is already betrothed to someone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of his betrothed sobers him. He does not wish to marry her, Nimue, but he will do his duty as the clan leader’s son and be true to her. Still, this strange Fey girl, for she is undoubtedly Fey, plagues his mind. Not what he wanted when he left the traveling party for a chance to be alone, but he can’t bring himself to be angry about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning on his heel, Lancelot leaves the clearing behind and returns to the traveling party. They are almost at the Sky folk’s village and have merely taken a short rest to water their horses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nimue simmers in her own resentment of this stranger. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How dare he</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She knows she is taking her anger from other things and situations out on him. That it is undeserved, but she is far beyond caring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Running all the way back, she quickly reaches her village, rushing past people whispering “witch” at her back, ignoring them as usual. Pym finds her first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nimue! Where’ve you been? Your mother is looking for you. They’ll be here soon!” it all comes out in a rush, her sweet voice drawing Nimue from her resentment, until the words come through and she falls right back in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just out. Nowhere special,” he voice is hard, brokering no argument. Hurt flashes across Pym’s face and the bitter taste of regret fills Nimue’s mouth instantly, “Sorry, I’m just…” she leaves the sentence unfinished, unsure of what to say. Pym understands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a secretive smile, she reaches out her hand and brushes her fingers through the brunette’s hair. Nimue relaxing under the careful touch. When she removes her fingers from the other girls hair, she twirls a leaf between them, a smirk curling up her lips, “So, what’s the name of ‘nowhere special’”. They both laugh, the joke working as intended and making the stressed girl relax.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nimue! There you are!” the voice of Lenore, Nimue’s mother interrupts the two girls, “They’ll be here any moment. Come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nimue and Pym move to follow her weaving through crowds busy preparing the village to receive the Ash folk and look as good as possible. They enter their hut, Nimue sitting down and Pym moving to fix her hair, while Lenore paces back and forth nervous with this monumental occasion upon them. She rambles on about the Ash folk and the alliance, and Nimue having heard most of it before tunes her out, focusing on the feeling of Pym’s fingers gently braiding her hair. It calms her just enough that she can feel the anger and resentment subside and a small smile of joy reaches her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Pym finishes the braids, Squirrel barrels into the hut, “They’re here!” he says, more like yells, excitedly, “Do you think they’ll have someone for me to play with?” he asks. Mouth moving non-stop. Nimue laughs, Squirrel always puts her in a better mood. Though they have different parents, he truly feels like a little brother to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Slow down, Squirrel,” she laughs, “I’m sure they will have someone for you to play with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lenore is busy shooing them all out of the hut towards the place where they’ll receive the Ash folk. “Squirrel, go join your parents. Pym, you too,” she says, not unkindly, and Squirrel and Pym hurries to do as she said. Nimue, meanwhile, is rushed to the front where the Elders stand and where her mother is supposed to be as High Priestess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing tall, to receive her doom with pride, Nimue takes a deep breath. The Ash folk slowly coming into view amongst the trees. She is nervous, more than she would have thought to be. She can’t help but remember her childhood wonder for this mysterious Lancelot, all her hope and dreams, and for a moment she wishes that he would love and accept her, but then she crushes that hope beneath an iron fist. Nothing good will come from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Ash folk are now in view, Her eyes drawn the figure clad in all dark clothes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> is riding in the front on an impressive black stead. Hood drawn back and shoulder-length hair collected in a bun at the nape of his neck. Even more handsome now that she can actually see his face. Clearly an important person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A feeling of doom slowly creeps over her.</span>
  <em>
    <span> No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She sincerely hopes she is wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she is looking at him his eyes sweep over the gathered crowd that has come to greet them and rests on her. Blue meeting blue. She holds the breath in her lungs. An inexplicable feeling coursing through her. He holds her gaze until her mother steps forward and welcomes them to Sky folk’s village. His gaze falls away from her and she can breathe again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jumps gracefully off of his horse and takes the reins down. An older man that Nimue hadn’t even noticed, so busy she was with staring at the figure in black, steps forward and enthusiastically thanks her mother for the welcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gestures to the man in black and Nimue feels her stomach drop, “Thank you so much for welcoming us, Lenore. This is my son, Lancelot”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wants to faint but luckily doesn’t. She barely out of her eye notices her mother gestures to her and introduces her. She can’t hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>